Second Awakening
by HarlequinMemory
Summary: Despite his efforts to cage it, Norm Spellman did have a heart. And he was only just beginning to feel the repercussions of it. Norm/Trudy


It started with the rain.

A misting grew with the dusk, becoming a heavy downpour once the night had completely encompassed the Pandora sky. The clear noises of the torrent against the outer roofing had become a repetitive constant, amid the quiet humming of the running machines.

At this point, within the tightly confined accommodations, there was everything to lose.

Including sleep.

For someone who'd developed terribly sensitive hearing over the years, the sounds of the storm had become a personal _hell_.

Trudy rolled from her side to her back again, hopelessly looking up to the ceiling. Working her tail off all day in the SA-2 Samson, and for what? Was this operation even going anywhere anymore? A little over two months now on this expedition, and she was running out of things to do. Even Grace was spending all of her time away from the camp, now that Jake had gotten her an in.

The pilot sighed wearily, her brow lowered in irritation against the midnight thoughts. With everything that had been happening, she admittedly felt a little misplaced on the mission. Not only was she alone in lacking an Avatar out here, she was simply just separate from the others. She didn't understand all the excitement over figuring out which tree was related to which. She wouldn't even bother when it came to the Na'vi's language. There wasn't anyone to talk to about RDA training, or to discuss flight shortcuts around Hell's Gate with. No, Trudy was sent for supplies every few weeks, and supplies only; a beeline path to base and back.

She had become a caged bird, wings clipped.

Closing her eyes again, Trudy let her focus wander. Her veteran ears were still picking up on the cadence of tapping from the rain above; sleep seemingly a distant, impossible wish.

Just as her consciousness drifted, her mind finally clearing, Trudy became aware of another sound. Her eyes opened again, in the darkness, and she positioned herself upward. From the front of the temporary station, she heard – a voice? – drifting out and in. Was Jake back for some reason? Had something happened?

Stirring from the small cot, Trudy clamored out of bed and walked the short length to the corner of the wall, listening all the while.

* * *

The blue light brightened, awakening the display screen with it.

"I'm, uh, not really use to doing this." He swallowed thickly, his voice a hesitant tone below strained. "But Grace wanted someone using this thing all the time; for now, I guess that's me." Norm cleared his throat, a sound minute against the heavy rain outside.

"I'm alright," he looked to his reflected image on the hologram screen, nodding. His hair was a bit longer now, just brushing below his eyebrows. Bleary eyes, weighted with the stress of the past months, gazed back wearily at him. His face was scruffy, worn in with the setting; unkempt stubble traced along his jaw and cheekbones, sparsely trailing down his neck. He was tired and had a headache threatening to settle in. This, he knew, wasn't 'alright'.

"There are tensions back at the base now. We're hearing about them more and more often, and things aren't looking too good." His hazel eyes dropped from the camera; he continued with his gaze downward, "And out with the Na'vi – well, Jake would know most about that now." A slighted bitterness edged its way into his tone, and he sighed.

"With me, though? I don't know," Norm leaned back in the chair, looking to the camera again. "Everything here's been more than I expected – much more – and, in that aspect, what I have done to reach this has definitely been worth it. Having the chance to be on Pandora, you know, experiencing my Avatar, working with the others - just everything." He began chewing his lip, a silence filling the moment.

"But I," he delayed, suddenly, uncertain of how to formulate what he wanted to say. Norm wasn't an ungrateful person. He had never taken any of his training lightly, or for granted. He knew that he was there for a reason, and that he was very content in filling that purpose.

However, there was a piece of him that had been buried beneath the science, and schooling, and the work for a very long time; it was something that Norm had never come to terms with, because he had never felt it was necessary, really. Despite his efforts to cage it, Norm Spellman did have a heart. And he was only just beginning to feel the repercussions of it.

"There's something I've been missing."

* * *

"This," he motioned around himself, "this was my only dream, and I'm _living_ it." It was odd, actually. Having worked so long for one specific goal, Norm hadn't actually thought as to what would happen once he reached it. Hearing about the life here, and Ewya especially, had put him to thinking this last month.

"The Na'vi believe that a person is born twice; the second time being when they find their place. I guess… I guess I haven't found mine yet."

Why couldn't it have been him out there, instead of _him_? Why was Jake – the one who had barely prepared for any of this _at all_ – the one that had found the 'in'? And the way he talked about Neytiri lately; he could see it in Jake's eyes. He would listen, in both fascination and envy, and watch as Jake's expression lit up, his face aglow as he spoke of the princess. Out of all the information that the ex-marine told him, that remained the one thing that Norm could not grasp. He didn't understand Jake's sentiment towards her, it was unfamiliar; admittedly, he had never experienced a closeness like that with someone else, which left him only to wonder.

"To find Tsahaylu," he muttered more to himself than the video recording.

"Spellman?"

Norm jumped at the sound of a voice and turned in his chair, blinking into the unclear darkness of the lab. Emerging from the shadowed hall, the figure gave a low laugh, "I thought that was you. What the hell are you still awake for?"

The resident pilot approached, her bare arms folded tightly, feet tapping on the cold flooring. She had clearly been in bed; her dark hair pulled back into a slightly messy ponytail, tired eyes looking to him in speculation.

"Trudy, hey," his voice sounded more worn than he'd hoped, more disheartened than he realized before.

Norm's hand fumbled with the off switch to the camera momentarily, and he held in the button. Slowly the blue light faded, closing the screen down too, "I was, uh, filling in with the video logging. Since Jake and Grace aren't going to be back tonight."

"Ah," she nodded, leaning against the corner of his desk. "Y'know, you don't actually have to do that. I don't think Grace was too concerned."

"I -" he scratched at his neck, uncomfortably, "I know. But documentation is everything right now." The words came out awkwardly, as he lied. Work was as good as any excuse for insomnia, particularly when it was self-caused.

The storm had tamed slightly in comparison to its racking unruliness in the hours past, which he realized as he spoke at a softer level. It truly wasn't even night anymore; they were into the early hours of morning now. He looked over to her, suddenly, with an edging worry.

"I'm so sorry, did I wake you? I didn't realize it if I was speaking loudly over the racket out there…" By which he actually meant: _I honestly hope you didn't hear any of that_.

"Oh. Nah," she replied rather quickly, waving it off with a hand. "I haven't been sleeping at all, anyway."

Norm shifted in his chair, sitting more upright.

"Why haven't you?" he asked, somewhat abruptly.

Trudy looked down. How would she explain to him this feeling of being trapped? How could he understand the thoughts that had been creeping into her head all night? She wasn't about to tell him about her hearing damage, either, embarrassing as it was. The girl shrugged, brushing her bangs out of her face.

"This damn temp station," she muttered, "cold as hell in the nights. I'm surprised we don't freeze over, let alone not sleep." It wasn't completely a lie; the entire place was made up of metal junk, and keeping the machines cool was a vital.

She was cold? He knew that being under regular body temperature was a side effect to fatigue, which in her case was a very obvious possibility. In fact, if she had a low Iron level, that could double the effect. Feeling somewhat obligated, Norm - without a second thought - unzipped his hooded sweatshirt and pulled his long arms from it. A slight concern on his face, he held out the garment to her.

"Here," Norm looked up, starting to feel the cool air against his thin t-shirt.

Guilt encompassed her expression as she looked to his offer. She would deny, but then she would also have to explain why she had really been awake. Before Trudy could configure a reply, she had already decided, reaching to take his hoodie. Their fingers grazed briefly, lightly, as she took it.

"Thanks, Spellman." She was short with it, to the point. If there was one thing an RDA girl didn't do, it was get sappy.

Hesitantly, she slipped the sweatshirt on, it fitting close around her arms. As she zipped it up, she could feel his body heat, still contained within the jacket. Although she wasn't actually that cold to begin with, Trudy felt a sudden warmth that she hadn't before.

"Listen," Norm broke into the silence, "if you heard anything that I was saying before, on the video, I don't want you to think that I'm mad at Jake."

Her brow lowered, "Mad?"

"Yeah," assuming that she _had_ heard him, he continued, "if anything, I'm just kind of out of it. It's not that I'm …resentful or anything of him doing this. I just wish it included all of us."

_Me_, he thought. _I want this to include me_.

The pilot's eyes wandered to the window in the main door, the night and the rain so thick it was near impossible to see anything. Her SA-2 was out there, just as stuck as she was.

"Should try and get some sleep," she told him, eyes still at the window, "That hellhole out there waits for no one."

He guffawed sarcastically. "Sleep, yeah. That's going to happen, thanks."

She was slightly taken aback with Norm's carping remark, at odds with a reply to the scientist. Norm arched his lanky figure forward, so as to rest his arms on the desk, folded tightly. Trudy leaned back, propping herself into a sitting position on the desk's edge. He had looked away from her, down to his haggard shoes.

Not many of their personal items were in decent condition anymore. Jackets were beginning to appear tattered, backpacks ragged. His sweatshirt that Trudy was currently in, though, he'd made a point to only wear when inside; it was a nice hoodie, and was still in great condition for him having brought it all the way from Earth. He wouldn't have offered it to her, had it been overused or worn. Norm was feeling the chill of their station now; keeping the place at a low temperature was a requirement for the machinery to function properly. He was tired, his body heat that had been contained by the hoodie now gone – something she didn't have to know.

"Hey," Trudy's tone had changed, becoming sharper. "You're not the only one dealing with all this. At least you're a part of this integration, this 'team'. I've never _had that_, Spellman. Flying out here is a solo job; just you and whatever kind of backbone you can muster. And I'm not even doing that, anymore. What good am I out here, huh?"

Norm gave an impatient scoff, his head still turned away. "How should I know? It's not like you'd even bother to tell _me_ these things."

She stared at him now, a bitter misunderstanding fueling her words. "With you – they _need_ you here. You don't see it, but I do. There isn't _a second_ you don't have your nose into something important. You know how to link up the Avatars, how to speak the language, you have a doctoral degree - you even know when to be a gentleman, dammit, 'cause I can guarantee you're freezing your ass off right this second. Don't think that I forgot you left your RDA coat on the Samson. "

The pilot's indignant words were left hanging. It was her dark gaze that flickered away, now.

Quietly, Norm met her eyes.

"You knew all of that?" he nearly whispered, shocked. "You knew all that about me?" He was searching her features now, as if her expression might foretell some sort of answer before she did.

With a very controlled indifference, she shrugged, "It's not that hard to pick up on things, I guess_." Not when you've been itching to know for two months. _

Norm blinked, completely oblivious. He was still processing what she had initially said. She had called him a gentleman, and she knew so much – so much that he'd never even _told_ her. A thin smile crept at the corners of his mouth, and he looked down.

The rain outside had lightened considerably; the storm must have nearly been past, the drizzle lightly whispering outside, around them. The pair looked up, noticing the change together.

"Well," Trudy nearly laughed at the timing, "think I'll try and get some sleep then. Uh, here, just a sec -" Her fingers went to the zipper of the sweatshirt; she began to undo it, intending on handing it back.

And then all at once, his hand was on top of hers, stopping her short. Norm, who had dashed forward – standing now - in one unplanned movement, emotionally recoiled as her surprised expression met his own.

"I-" he stuttered, hovering closely, "Keep it. You – you can keep it."

She loosened her grip on the fabric of his hoodie, her fingers regressing more into his. Trudy let her head fall, looking down at their hands. She laughed, tiredly, unable to hide a grin.

"C'mon, Spellman, I'm tougher than that. And you're cold – your hands," she argued, pressing his long fingers into her grip. He drifted towards her with her touch, and she gave a short laugh again, nervous. The fingers of their touching hands slid together apprehensively, neither of them looking directly to each other. Norm carefully placed his free hand at her side, on the desk.

"I guess I'm not so cold anymore," he emptied his lungs heavily, breath intermingling with hers. At that moment, Trudy looked up.

_Caged bird, this is your chance._

Decidedly - and with force - she closed the minimal space between them, frenziedly compressing her mouth to his.

Norm's brow shot up as he drew in a breath of shock through his nose, his eyes blinking in disbelief. Trudy, holding one of his hands tight, grasped around his collar and drew him closer with the other. He stumbled forward, against the desk. The scientist eased into the kiss, letting his scruffy face press against her soft skin. He moved his hand from the table's surface gently to the small of her back, and she urged him closer, softly running fingers through his outgrown hair.

When they both pulled away, laborious breaths heated against one another, Norm looked to Trudy as bewildered as he first had. It was completely finally clear as what he had been missing all along. He pressed his forehead to hers, wordlessly grinning. Despite their somber differences, Norm had found what he was looking for - unavoidably pounding in his enamored chest.

Trudy's heart was fluttering dangerously, adrenaline rushing. There was only one other way she could achieve such a feeling – the one way she had trained for years to reach.

_Flying_, a smile encompassing her soft features, _he makes me feel like I'm flying_.


End file.
